HitsuRuki Origins
by Sparkle Rainbow
Summary: What is the HitsuRuki Army and how did it come to be? Who are these new Captains and what chain of events brought them to their position? A coming of age story that tells of love, loss, and friendship. Warning: OCs all over the place, man! OC overload!
1. Prologue

* * *

Seireitei was burning.

And the hope of victory fading.

Breaking fortress walls struggled against screaming crowds.

Loathsome.

Vile.

_Decrepit._

The black smoke of burning death ripped the horizon apart.

Minions stood at the ready, awaiting their next

_Order. _

All about them, bloodstained yukata lay in smothering heaps, master less.

**Aizen had won.**

His eyes, blind to the pain and the devastation he was causing, wandered lazily over the chaos. In turn, those eyes were hungrily regarded by thousands more eyes, just as blind, just as heartless. They watched, waited, hung on the very anticipation of the order they already knew he was about to give. And then, smiling in a way only madmen on the verge of plummeting the world into despair can smile, he gave it.

"Let none survive."

And so it was.

The battle was _swift._

* * *

**Prologue.**

* * *

**Trapped.**

* * *

Far away from this bloodshed, in the heavy undercurrent of night, six nameless students- teetering on the tip of adulthood, children in the eyes of the Shinigami- were running. They ran breathlessly, clasping each other's hands and clutching their chests as they gasped for breath, through a vengeful forest be-ridden with hollows and ghouls. From their safe little perch in the blanketing darkness above, the stars seemed to mock their strife with each glistening twinkle.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are-!" shouted a sinister voice from behind, coupled with maniacal laughter. "We wont hurt you, my pets, we just want to play!"

"Yes, yes! Hee, hee, ho, ho!" came another, echoing off the tall trees and displacency. "Play with your _BONES!_"

The voices were getting closer and closer; the children continued to run.

In the front of the group, a feverish young woman led them, her bronze eyes hawkishly regarding the path ahead. Stray twigs and branches slashed at her face as she cleared the way for her companions. Behind her, a red-faced girl around the same age with short, messy hair struggled to keep up as the leader kept a determined hand gripped around her wrist, dragging her along.

"Y-Yos…s…s…" she struggled to say between breaths. "sto…can't…b…re..bre…"

"Shhh!" the sterner of the two responded. "Quiet, Bii! We're almost there!"

"Where exactly are you taking us?" asked the only male in the group, speeding up to run side by side with her. He was taller than her and his long legs easily matched her pace in comfortable strides.

"There's a secret cave up ahead," she responded, keeping her eyes forward. "It's enchanted, so if we can make it through it'll seal us in and we can head for safety without any followers."

"What makes you so sure it's there?" The male was unconvinced, studying her profile with slanted eyes. He'd never been a fan of blindly following people; he'd also never been a fan of running away from a good fight, and the fact that he was running from these pursuers instead of unsheathing his sword and stabbing them with it was a serious cause for irritation. "How do you know we're not just blindly running ourselves into a corner?"

"Trust me," she responded. "It's there."

"No offense, Yousha," said the male. "But why should I trust a Shinigami who isn't even smart enough to produce a Shikai?"

The leader, her curly hair tangled and snarled as it whipped about her wildly, quieted.

But she did not stop running.

"Damn it, Shun! Don't you talk to my Taichou like that!" shouted a tall, fiery red head in the back. Her face was graceful and poised, yet rigid and unpredictable, like a tigress who couldn't decide if she was going to permit you to pass or have you for supper. "Since when did you got crowned king of the jungle!"

"Don't start with me!" Shun shouted in response. "Or else I'll…"

"You'll what! Cry me a river?!"

"Narqy-kins, please! I appreciate the support but now isn't the time!"

"Yeah, but I don't like that guy talkin' to you like that, Taichou!" Narquotic shouted, keeping up the rear of the group. In front of her, a petite blonde carried on in silence. "Just 'cuz you ain't got a shikai yet don't mean you're retarded or something! You're just… a late bloomer!"

"Gee, thanks, Narqy…" Yousha responded as the girl she dragged along with her begged to stop and rest. "But how many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me Taichou? I'm not your Captain…. or anyone's for that matter."

"Not yet, Taichou! But you will be some day, I just know it!"

The six ran until breath completely failed them, mocking stars lighting the way. It was when their lungs felt as if exploding that they reached a clearing in the wood, and were then caught between the contemptuous laughter of their chasers and a large, sheer, unending, rock face ahead.

"This is it," Yousha said, pausing to catch her breath. "We're here."

"Here?" responded Shun incredulously, pointing to the amassing slab of granite in front of them. "We're at a dead end!"

"What do we do now, Shun-san?" asked the timid young blonde, holding her sides, staring at the boy.

"We thank _Princess_ here for leading us to our deaths, Snow."

"_Ke, ke, ke, ke! I've got you now, my pets!"_

The voices were getting closer.

**The children grew more and more frantic.**

And _enraged._

"Trapped-" Shun threw his hands in the air, exasperated. "Between a rock and a god-damn-nother rock! Just great! Tell me something, Yousha… do you ever actually _think_ before you think up a plan!?"

"We have to do something, Ate," the last of the group, Iana, said to Yousha. Iana was taller than her counterpart by inches, but quite similar in the lithe frame that screamed of malnutrition and too much thinking and lack of sleep. Her hair, so black that midnight itself grew jealous, hung about the concerned features of her face like a shadowy curtain. "You saw how strong those things are, there's no way we can beat them if they catch us!"

Instead of responding, however, Yousha began scanning the large rock face ahead of them as if searching for a puzzle piece. She walked forward tentatively and dragged her fingers on its sleek surface. "I know it's here… I just need a moment."

The messy-haired brunette clung to Yousha's arm, who was still gripping her wrist quite tightly, and followed her. "Y-yoshi didn't you hear her? They're coming! What are we going to do?"

Villainous laughter filled the surrounding area; the trees clapped in a sinister breeze; the children huddled closer together. All except Shun, who was eager to _fight._

"Listen to me," the bronze-eyed girl responded. "It's a trick. An optical illusion. The entrance is here, we just have to focus and-"

"Attack!" the male interrupted, unsheathing his sword. "They're here!"

Yousha spun around. "Damn it, Shun, don't-!"

But her warning fell on deaf ears; Shun moved ahead of the group defensively; Narquotic's hands glowed blue with kidou, and anticipation; Iana Sabelle, hands shaking, swallowed and reached for her weapon; Snow remained to the side, staring at her fingers; Blackbelt, ever the pessimist, held fast to Yousha's arm, hoping to god this inevitable fight would pass them like a fading storm gone to sea.

But hoping was all she would do.

The pursuers had reached the clearing.

The sea, a faded dream.

Their eyes were hungry and **white**. Mouths _salivating_. Teeth dangerously exposed. Claws sharp.

So **sharp.**

And then _it _happened_._

The **first** one

lunged.

. . .

Yet, even now, reader, you are wondering, I'm sure, just who these six children are and why it is they are in this messiest of situations. And where are the Captains, you ask? Those shining pillars of Soul Society. How was it they allowed the mighty Seireitei to fall to ash in one singular, moonless night?

For that, my dear friends and allies, we will have to travel back a spell… to the origin of this little dilemma.

…And to how that origin may just doom them all.

* * *

Author's notes:

This story is for my friends in the HitsuRuki Army. **It revolves around a group of original characters **who are all based off of many of the Authors and friends of mine currently writing Hitsugaya/Rukia fan fiction. Do not expect much action from the actual Bleach characters, as this story is meant to detail how the HitsuRuki Army came to be.

If you're interested in learning more about the HitsuRuki Army, visit our forum on fan fiction dot net: /forum/HitsuRuki/42706/

Featured in this chapter: 

Yousha = youshallnotpass

Shun = Shun Keel

Bii/Blackbelt = Blackbelt

Iana = Iana Sabelle

Narqy-kins = Narquotic

Snow = Snow

To all of my dear friends who appear in this story: I hope you like it. I've tried to hold true to the character descriptions you've given me. However, on a blunter note, **I do not write Mary/Gary Sues.** Keep in mind that this is an _origins_ story, so unless you were reading Dickens in pre-school while performing quantum-mechanics and simultaneously debunking Einstein's theory of relativity, _**you were not superman when you started out**_. If you gave me stats that were "all powerful and undefeated…" well, I gimped you. Unlucky.

Suggestions are more than welcome via re-view and/or PM.

Until next time, hooray for author's notes that are longer than the actual chapter.

Pip pip!

~ Sparkle


	2. Chapter 1 Chance, or Something Like it

The day was fair.

_Brilliant._

Golden shafts and cascades of trees.

Cardinals chirped, red _specks_ reflecting in a sea of shimmering emerald.

The war, its memory, was long **forgotten**.

Dust in an effervescent _wind_.

The diaphanous crowd reveled in the somber quietude peace afforded them. Divisions went to work rebuilding the smothered mess. Temples were erected in the memory of those who'd so selflessly fallen. Towers soared higher than they ever had before, an homage to the walls and fortresses that had protected them in that desolate hour. Bustling streets capitalized on harmony and confidence.

Sereitei had rebuilt itself, had risen from the ashen glum with wings of undousable fire.

And the people, once again, were happy.

All was well.

* * *

**Chapter One**

* * *

**Chance, or Something Like it**

* * *

Kaisei took his seat in the cylindrical chamber of Central 46 tentatively. It was his first day, his first moment in this sacred position, and his mind flooded and spilled over with newfound responsibility and _title_. Would he be asked to vote on important topics? Even now so many of the seats still remained empty, awaiting appointment. In the absence of the others would he be expected to make decisions that could alter the fate of Seireitei as he knew it?

"Just sit still and don't say anything," said the man next to him, looking aged and **irrelevant. **"_They_ don't like it when you try to be a hot shot on your first day."

"They?" asked Kaisei, confused. The old man pointed a wilted finger toward the front of the dark chamber, to several men, all of them teeming with self-importance, who sat in the opposite direction, as to face the rest of them.

"The top eight," he responded contemptuously. "The first ones appointed to the new Central 46. Think they're all high and mighty, them, just because they was chosen first. Been making all the decisions from the start, and don't like it much when somebody new pipes up with an idea at 'might be better than the one they got. Iffin' you don't want to get yourself in trouble, just do like me and sit in the back row quietly.

The man leaned into his chair as tired old men do and chewed a bit of tobacco; Kaisei suddenly felt far less important, and far more _pointless._

"…_I'd like to call this meeting to order,"_ said the sternest of the eight. "_We'll be assigning the new candidates of Shinigami Academy with their __**Potentials **__today..."_

"Potentials?" Kaisei whispered.

"Potential rank." said the elder. "Assessing power levels, we determine what potential each student has for achieving the power levels of an officer, captain, or beyond. They're then monitored accordingly and watched throughout their careers to ascertain whether or not they're fit for that position."

"…_Candidate number twenty-three…"_ called one of the eight.

"…_Fuku-taichou..."_ the sternest responded.

"Wait, I don't get it- are you telling me these kids are judged on their power levels before they even pick up a sword?" Kaisei asked. "That doesn't make any sense at all! Is this the way things have always been done?"

"…_Candidate number forty-six…"_

"…_Third seat..."_

"Beats me, kid. Alls I know is at's how they done it last year when I joined the forty-six and that's how they done it this year when you joined."

"…_Candidate number seventy…"_

"…_I'm unsure at this point, let's follow his progress and make a decision at the end of the term..."_

"…_Agreed..."_

Kaisei shook his head.

"I don't get it, old man- how is this helping anyone? What if some of them are just late bloomers? Why would they want to follow these children so early in their careers?"

"…_Candidate number eighty-four..."_

The sternest of the eight mulled on candidate number eighty-four's fate over a sip of wine.

"_Too troublesome. Assign him to the royal guard."_

"Royal Guard!?" Kaisei shouted absently, _standing_. "You haven't even seen him in action!"

The sternest of the eight turned his crooked neck

and **stared. **Suddenly, the room smelled very _stale._

"Is there a problem, Kaisei-san? Is there something wrong with the way we do things here?" he asked.

Kaisei _swallowed._

Guided by the subtle kick from the old man, he shook his head and quietly sat back down.

"Getting back to things, candidate number eighty-four shall be assigned to the Royal Guard. Unless, that is, anyone else has a problem?"

Silence, paralyzed with fright, didn't bother to respond in the absence of _comment_.

"Told you to sit down and shut up," said the old man. "They don't like it when you done question them."

"…_What about candidates number one-hundred-three and one-hundred-four?"_

Obeying the order out of principal, Kaisei quieted. But he didn't **like it. **Were these eight men really deciding the fates of one hundred and four students before even a day of _**class?**_

Was this how the Central 46, the guiding light of Soul Society, actually _worked?_

"…_One-hundred-three passed the entrance exam with the highest mark but does not have any real power and wouldn't haven been admitted if it wasn't for the family history involved…"_

"Don't fight it, son," said the elder, spitting his tobacco on the **floor. **"Things are good now. We're finally getting ourselves back in order here. The only thing causin' up a fuss has ever done for anybody is givin' them a good night's sleep behind bars."

" _One-hundred-four received the lowest marks but displays a most interesting ability…"_

Kaisei didn't want to agree with the old man, but he _**did.**_ After all, he couldn't actually complain.

"_Yes, both interesting cases."_ said the sternest of the eight.

So what if a few privileged old men made a couple of decisions that didn't make any sense? Was it really going to hurt anyone in the end? Either way, things were good for him. He was a member of the Central 46. Seireitei was being rebuilt, brick for brick. Soul Society had finally found its peace. All was well.

"…_We shall have to watch them both progress with great interest..."_

Kaisei _smoothed_ the front of his white coat, eased **back** into his seat, and said no more that day.

* * *

For sixty-seven years Saint Sky had been ready to walk through the gates of Shinigami Academy. Today, as it were, was finally her day.

Of course she'd gain admittance.

Of course she'd be accepted.

That's just how it was _**meant to be.**_

Not one member of the prestigious Sky family had ever failed admittance to the school, and she was no exception. In fact, at the young age of seventy-three, brown hair short with discipline, bright eyes spilling with thousands of pages from hundreds of books, she was one of the youngest attendees to ever grace its halls.

Considered by many a _Prodigy._

Her family placed all of their hopes for prosperity on her. The namesake of the next generation of Skys would be earned and kept by her. Its vigilant watchman. Heiress to a coral of responsibility. A sea of expectation. Even her **sister**, Blue, several years older yet still studying for the entrance exam, knew that Saint was born for the day when she would enter those great stone gates. Blue cried that morning, she remembered. Cried on her sleeve out of pride. Out of joy.

"_You're going to do great things, little sister, I love you so much!"_

So proud. Blue. So proud of her sister making it in to Shinigami Academy.

Thus it was with great **frustration** that her feet remained glued to the ground just outside the entrance.

Sixty-seven years of waiting can give someone a terrible case of performance _anxiety._

* * *

Bii Kuroubi ran, the taunting forest bouncing off her heals with every step.

It wasn't **right.**

She'd left _early_ today. By thirty minutes- no easy feat. She'd had her books, her scrolls, her parchment, her quills, all of it ready for the walk out the door.

Even still, class was starting, and here she was.

_Lost._

The row of endless maples her only guide.

She was a bitty thing, of average height yet noticeably petite in every other fashion of the word. Her hair, _short_, **messy**, mahogany, wore the nervous sweat like a crown. Her eyes were brown and wide and _**unaccustomed. **_

They darted from left to right.

She couldn't be late today, she just _couldn't._

Things were going to be different from now on. She was going to shed her clumsiness, her naiveté, and start anew. She was going to become a different person.

Starting now.

And so she ran, losing sight of direction. Nervousness got the better of her and her Zanpakuto, shining, mysterious, by her side, always, a limitless companion.

It began to **sing. **

She was too _consumed_ to notice.

* * *

Six hundred and fifty three people walked the Wandering Princess to the gate, much to her _chagrin_.

They'd followed her around her entire life, reminding her the proper way to eat and exactly why she shouldn't go into the city alone. Primping, poising, _preparing_.

**Annoying.**

"_Make sure you wear a sweater when it's cold!" _they cried aloud as stewards followed her, carrying her many adorned trunks. _"Better yet- you never know when it'll get cold, might as well just wear a sweater always!"  
_

"_We have body guards positioned just outside the Academy! You call out to them if any boys try and touch you in your special place!"_

"_Lolo, don't embarrass the girl on her first day!" _shouted a fierce woman, small and powerful. The obvious **leader**._ "Oh, my sweetie little baby! Boo, hoo, hoo! Just yesterday you were running around naked in the courtyard with a diaper on your head like a crown!"_

The Wandering Princess cursed under her breath. Her midnight hair, so black it absorbed the very colours around her, _glistened_.

She loved them, really, all six hundred and fifty three. Them so doting, so bumbling, arguing with each other over what type of wool would keep her the warmest at night, how many care packages she should receive each day-so loyal, her family.

But they were itchy, too, like an old skin. _Overdue_ skin.

She couldn't _**wait**_ to shed them.

* * *

Damn this school.

Another _year_.

Another series of idiots.

In they come and out they will go. Most failing. A few dying. Others **giving up**.

So pointless. Just stay home. Avoid the unnecessary effort.

The dark beauty pushed her way through the teeming innocence, ignoring it. A fight broke out beside her. Sophomores picking on fresh meat. Every year those "pleasured few" who make it through to the next round take it upon themselves to haze the new arrivals.

Penance for being hazed themselves.

She moved on. The shining, star tattoo around her right eye blinded to the assault. It wasn't her place to intervene.

Even if it was, she couldn't be bothered to.

No. Ignore them. Head to class. Three years down. Three to go. Then she'd be **free.**

Free to use the skills she'd learned among these walls. Free to take them to the next level. This dark beauty had a mission a head of her, after all.

A **clear** mission.

Given the state of things, she was en route to achieving that mission. It had been ninety years since another female had managed to do what she did. Likely, it would be ninety more. Not an easy road, she'd sacrificed much. The abashment of many. **Allegiance** to none.

Solitary was her essence. So, as she had done on every first day since this one, she ignored them. Unable to allow a couple of freshman who were to weak to fend for themselves to get in her way. The weak would fade eventually.

But not her. She was _**strong.**_

The dark beauty carried on to her first lesson, unperturbed.

* * *

"Iana-chaaaaaaaan!" cried a familiar voice. A young woman, teenaged to the human eye, approached the Wandering Princess eagerly. A beautiful creature who matched the Princess's grace in equal strides, she smiled brilliantly, bubbly sweetness spilling out of her as if from a broken dam. "We did it, Iana-chan! We finally made it into the Academy!"

Iana Sabelle's many shimmering bangles jingled in applause. The girls hugged one another, hopping this way and that. Six hundred and fifty three skins faded into the soil behind them.

"I can't wait for this year!" Iana cheered. "We're going to have so much fun, Crazy-chan! Makeovers and sleepovers and shopping sprees and, oh! We can share outfits and do each other's hair and looks for boys! Maybe we can even double date!"

"It's going to be one big party!" Crazy responded, strawberry blonde hair spilling about her in unedited rings.

"Oh, and did you hear, Crazy chan? I'm so excited about this!"

"Hear what?" Hand in hand they made their way through the stone gates into a reticulated courtyard. Bangles conformed to a carrying Falcetto.

"I heard a rumor there's going to be a real life princess enrolled this year! Can you imagine, Crazy-chan? Us meeting a true princess!"

"Uhm, Iana-chan," responded Crazy, her eyes glazed and bemused. "You _are_ a real princess."

"No, you don't understand, this is different!" cried the darkened beauty, her eyes so alive and enchanted. "She's a REAL princess!"

"Uhm, right," Crazy whispered. The two continued to walk. Upbeat steps. Jewelry sang. Stewards followed.

"I can't wait to meet her! Do you think she'll like me, Crazy-chan? Oh, I hope she does! I really want to ask her for some fashion tips, and maybe she can give me some advice on how to catch a Prince! This is so exciting!"

They were **enamored**.

With the school. With each other. The sun in the _sky_ high above. The starkness of the surrounding _trees_. The crystal chime of **first** bell. The freedom. The possibility. Enamored. By all of it.

Too enamored, as it were, to regard the silent boy with dark hair and a unique sharpness to his slivered eyes watching them carefully.

* * *

"Awwww… look at her, boys! The poor little first year lost her mommy and doesn't know where to go!"

She was pissed.

"It's OK little first year! We know how to take care of little babies!"

More than pissed.

"Want us to read you a bedtime story and change your diaper?"

_**Infuriated.**_

"Oh, look! She's getting mad!"

There was four of them. All _tall_. Gangly. Still growing into their bones.

And stupid.

The fat one took her book. The big book. Twelve hundred pages. The one she liked best. Took a month to read.

_Dangled_ it over her **head** like a stringed carrot.

Eyes narrowed.

Fists balled.

The pimply one chuckled.

"Give. That. Back."

It wasn't a request. It was an order. Saint didn't give requests.

A young woman walked by, dark and mysterious, her right eye covered by an ebony star. She avoided eye contact, wandering past like an anchorless ship. Saint huffed, her flustered mouth filled with saliva.

Apparently, hazing was common practice here.

"You give that back to me," she warned, shaking slightly. "Or else."

"Or else what?" asked the ugly one. "_…..Baby?_"

That settled things.

She did the only thing she could think to do at the moment. What dad said to do if she got into trouble.

Took off her shoe.

Aimed carefully.

_Deep breath._

_Get a hold of yourself._

_You'll get the book back._

And threw it at his crotch.

* * *

Narquotic was in her element.

Thirty minutes at the Academy and already all eyes were on **her**.

It was a method. Popularity. "A" squared, "B" squared, "C" squared. A bit of flare. Nonchalance. Subtle disregard for those around you. Somehow, people loved it.

Taking a seat in the far end of the great hall, she flashed a mischievous smile at those potential suitors so eagerly awaiting her notice, and rested her head in her palm. Twirling a bit of crimson hair between her fingers, she engaged the group of students about her with feigned interest.

"_The school uniform looks really good on you, Narquotic-san!"_

"_I really like your hair, Narquotic-san!"_

"_You have such nice skin, Narquotic-san!" _

The student body liked her, and why not? She was stylish, surely. Fashionable. Posh. Confident. Bright. Entertaining.

But she was bored, also.

People had a tendency to do that to her. The monotony of casual conversation was trite, and pointless in her opinion. Discussing boys and clothes, school and social life. It made her feel tired and aggravated. She wanted more out of a conversation. Out of life. She wanted fun and excitement, comedy and companionship. True companionship. Not just compliments and _crap._

She wanted adventure.

"_Narquotic-san, how do you get your teeth so white?"_

Shinigami Academy provided some such opportunity.

"_Narquotic-san, do you have a boyfriend yet?"_

With any luck, she'd make a friend this year. A real friend.

"_That's a stupid question, Yomi-chan! Of course she does!"_

Not just a follower.

"_What does he look like? Is he older?"_

Or a fan.

"_Can we meet him?"_

A _**friend.**_

"_Does he have any friends?"_

Sadly, things were looking bleak at the moment.

"_Can we meet his friends?"_

With any luck this "companion" was just running late.

* * *

Bii tripped.

The hollow advanced.

Something about it. The teeth, perhaps? White. Menacing. Alive. They frightened hope. It ran.

And ran. And ran. And ran.

And _**ran.**_

"P-p-p-please!" she pleaded.

_Knowing_ pleading wouldn't help. It _**advanced**_. Her Zanpakuto, glistening, a curious blue. So unique, odd, _unexpected_, sang. Her emotions flooded it, fueled its voice. Louder and Louder.

Deeper and **Deeper**.

It was strong, that sword, curiously strong.

She wasn't.

It continued to sing.

The hollow didn't like it.

_It _continued to move forward.

Tears arrived, as if on cue. It wasn't supposed to be this way. She was supposed to be on time. She was supposed to shed her cowardice. She was supposed to be a new person today.

Not die here. Lost and scared.

Alone.

"Please, please, n-n-no!"

The hollow _**advanced.**_

"LOOK OUT!"

A body slammed into her own, sending her into the depths of a nearby swamp.

The first _**splash**_ was bitter.

And cold.

* * *

The crotch hit was obviously a **bad** idea.

They were mad now. Especially the big one. Fat and bulging. Angry. Enraged. Towering over her. A smothering heap of ignorance.

She was strong-willed, but small. She couldn't fight them all off- she didn't know how. A bookworm. Book smart, thus.

But not street smart.

Hiding herself away in libraries and studies. Nose in her reading. Always reading. Never fighting. Never learning how to prepare for this type of situation. Learning other things.

Many things.

But never fighting.

It happened, then.

They grabbed her. Picked her up.

**Seething**. _Angry_. Upset.

Someone threw the first _**punch**_.

It hit the fat one square in the face.

He went down.

The others followed.

* * *

"Are you all right?"

She was crying. Upset. _Unnerved._

"Listen, love, I need you to focus."

Shaking, distracted. Caked in mud. In swamp. Slug on her arm. There's a slug on her arm. Get it off, get it off!

_**Oh my god, get it off! **_

And the insipid green water burned her eyes, stung the back of her throat as she swallowed. _Don't panic. Don't panic. It's a new day, a new you- don't __**panic**__!_

"What are you doing out here by yourself, dear?"

That voice. Foreign…yet, familiar? Soothing? Calming. So calming. Lavender. Her voice was _lavender_. But she shook, still. Bii _shook. _Scared. Frightened. Shamed.

Late.

It was supposed to be a new start.

"LOOK OUT!"

Bii was pushed again to the swamp, seeing green as the vile liquid surrounded her. Engulfed her.

So disgusting.

A fight ensued.

Bii fought her way out of the murky water, kneeling at its bed. There was a girl. Covered in mud, dirt. She was angry. Yelling. Loudly. Fiercely. So fierce. Slashing at the hollow with an old, rusted dagger. No, two daggers. One in each hand, wrapped in seaweed and film. And dull edges.

"What are you doing out here!?" called the girl, caught in her place between Bii and the hollow.

"I-I was on my way to the Academy and got l-l-o-ost!"

"Bad place to get lost," said the girl. "What's your name?"

She dodged another swipe.

"B-bii Kurou…bi."

"Nice to meet you, Bii. I'm Yoshi---" Another swipe cut her sentence short. She stopped speaking. And _**focused.**_

Bii watched. She was a little shorter than her, the girl, a _little_ smaller. But her face was poised. Confident. Determined. And that made her large. Unquantifiably large. She wore robes, like Bii's, of red and white. And a crest. The crest of Shinigami Academy. It flashed on her chest like a beacon of light. Of hope.

Shinigami.

She was a Shinigami.

Bii was saved.

"Z-zanpakuto!" she cried from the sidelines, hands clasped. _Dear god, don't let this girl get hurt._ "U-use your Zanpakuto!"

"I can't!" said the girl. Yoshi. Her name was Yoshi, right? She picked up a rock.

It hit the hollow's nose, spot on.

"W-why not?" Bii asked. Why didn't this Shinigami just slash the monster in two? She was so fierce. So strong and brave, it seemed. Couldn't she just kill it in one blow?

Decimate it?

"Because I sort of don't have one!" responded the girl, hurling another rock.

"W-what!?"

"Yeah…" Swipe. _**Swipe.**_ "Probably should have thought of that before I attacked this thing but what can you do? Hindsight's 20/20…a ha, ha…"

Bii swallowed. This wasn't good. How could a Shinigami not have a Zanpakuto? Wasn't that sort of essential? Stones and rocks couldn't lick a hollow.

_**Bravery, **_couldn't lick a hollow.

This girl was going to get hurt. Bii just knew it. She was going to get hurt and it was all her fault. The swamp water stung her throat.

Slashes and shouts. Sticks and stones.

_Sticks and stones._

The hollow struck at the girl's feet. She slipped. Her head hit a fallen log. She fell.

Slowly, she fell.

Her eyes, so fearless, so fierce, just moments ago, full of light, confidence, anger, bravery, contempt, they closed.

They closed.

And once again, Bii was alone.

The hollow _**advanced.**_

It was going to eat that girl. Yoshi. That girl who tried to save her even though she didn't have the power to actually do so. And Bii could do nothing to stop it. The swamp water bleated in her eyes, filling her nostrils with a foul stench. Her tongue was basted with it, a spoiled ham. Her fingers shook, clutching themselves.

She wept.

And the hollow _**advanced.**_

* * *

Author's Notes:

_Special thanks to Blue Sky for kindly giving me her thoughts before I posted this chapter._

Featured in this chapter:

Black Belt

Saint Sky

Narquotic

Voicelord

youshallnotpass

CrazyOnDisplay

Iana Sabelle

Blue Sky

Thank you all for the support everyone, it was very nice of you to review. I'm sorry if I didn't respond to your review yet, but I just posted chapter one a couple days ago and have been working on this chapter ever since. I hope you like it.

If you do _not_ like it, and would prefer I wrote you out of the story, please say so instead of being rude and saying something mean and unnecessary. That's what children do.

Also, please don't send me PMs or reviews saying things like: "Why did you forget me!?" or "Where am I ?" I'm sorry, but writing thirty new characters into one chapter would be terribly redundant. If you are a member of the army and have given me your consent you will be written in. Just be patient.

Oh- and if you think I overpowered Yousha (Yoshi---) by making her fierce and brave, keep in mind she doesn't even have a Zanpakuto- I had to make up for that somehow, so I gave her some cajones! Thanks again for your love and support.

Pip, pip!

~Sparkle


	3. Chapter 2 Dance of the Blue Robes

Original Character Disclaimer: Massive OC!

This story is a gift to my friends and fellow writers of the Hitsugaya x Rukia crack pairing. Thus, the majority of characters in this story are OC, based on different fanfic authors.

Authors & name variations in story:

"Bii Kuro-Obi" = Blackbelt

Crazy On Display

Evilmoose

Iana Sabelle

Narquotic

Rain = Adrien Grey

Rebecca = Rebecca Pierce

Shun Keel

Snowlion No Miko

Wicked Sistah

"Yoshina Topasu" = youshallnotpass

This chapter is dedicated to the letter 'R' and the colour purple. Special thanks to BlackBelt and SaintSky for helping write certain scenes, and to my life parter, Narqy, for always keeping me laughing.

Reviews = peas + tanks!

Cheers,

~Sparkle

* * *

Son of a _bitch._

"_Hey."_

Yoshina Topasu was in a foul mood.

"_Wake up."_

Her head freaking **hurt**_**.**_

"_Come on, wake up."_

And what the bloody hell stunk so terribly damn bad?

_"Answer me, please."_

Oh, right.

_"Y-Yoshi-san!?"_

She did.

"Nnn…"

_"You need to get up now, Hime."_

Damn it, Jabs, I don't want to get up! You ruddy get up! Why can't you just let me sleep in for once? Honestly, that servant would be the death of her.

"_I'm not doing this all day."_

Of course you're no- wait, what?

Something wasn't _**right. **_How could Jabs be **waking her up** when she was…?

Yoshina Topasu opened her _eyes_**.**

The swamp; the smell; the singing; the hollow.

Reality welcomed her** back.**

* * *

**Chapter Two:**

**Dance of the Blue Robes**

* * *

They came from above. Two of them. Spit from the sun like drops of blood.

**Masters** of _stealth._

In blue robes. Royal blue. And quick, like mercury. Swords glistening silver. There was something curiously prestigious about them. The way they stood, backs erect. The way they stared, eyes slate, ahead.

The way they didn't waste a _**second**_.

The hollow was dead before she knew what hit it. Bii screamed as the body split in two, spitting swamp water. The men separated with it. One made for the tree line, _inspecting_, **assessing**, double-checking.

The other made for _her._

She looked up, flopped in the mud. Sludge covered her, a thick _marmalade_. Catching sight of him, feet away, so _**close**_, frighteningly, breath fleeted her. And _escaped._

He was striking, this stranger. Beautiful. **Flawless**. _Serene._

Quite possibly, the most gorgeous of all men she'd ever laid eyes on. Perhaps to any other person _**he**_ might have been just any other person. But not to her. He was more than that. Immaculate. An Adonis. Hercules. Protecting. Standing. _**Guarding.**_ Staring at her with a mass of mismatched hair that fell about his face in angry spikes, sharp eyes the **colour **of embers.

A fairy-tale _**prince**_.

And there sat queen Bii in her murky throne, the illegitimate bastard child of a human's and a swamp's drunken love scandal. His eyes fell upon **her**. She shrank, _trembling_.

He sighed heavily, the sound of him, _ambrosia_. The young man stepped forward, making for the half-named warrior girl slumped over a fallen log.

'Of course he'll go to her,' she thought, _torn,_ **regretful**_**. **_Teeming with insecurity and a smothering lack of faith in herself. 'She's so beautiful and strong. Of course he'll go to her instead of me…'

It was an odd thing to her when he carefully stepped over the warrior-stranger and knelt before Bii. He produced a cloth, small, _**silky**_, and brought it to her face.

Bii yelped.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he responded, patting her cheek. _Kind _eyes. So kind. But _**rigid.**_

He chuckled._** Ambrosia.**_

"Look at you, you're a right mess."

She didn't know how to respond.

"Dry your tears up, yeah? Crying is unbefitting of a warrior like you."

A boy had never been so nice to her before. Never paid her such kind and secular _attention_.

Never stood, inches from her face, patting the mud from her cheek with a silken cloth. His breath warm, smelling faintly of rosemary.

"Wake up. Come on, _Hime_. **Wake up!**"

The other one, tall. _So tall_. She noticed him then. He was stoic. **Menacing.** A tyrannous demeanor, so unlike her nameless prince. The presence of a _celebrity_.

She'd seen him somewhere before.

_**No.**_

Maybe not him.

But someone **like** him.

In a swift motion he was beside the half-named warrior girl. Towering over her. Arrogant. Alarming.

_**Tall. **_

"Y-yoshi-san!"

Adonis grabbed her sleeve calmly. The alarming man moved closer to her half-named savior, inspecting her as if she were a felon. A fugitive.

And him the law.

* * *

The sun glared overhead Shinigami Academy, pale and white. Students hustled and bustled. Directed by the nervous agitation that comes with new surroundings. Towards the entrance ceremony, they marched. Towards their classes. Towards their dorms. Hellos and Good-byes.

_How-do-you-do's. _

So unsure, the student body, yet resolved- most of them- to put effort first and study best until graduation day came.

_**Most**_, mind you.

Not all.

A few found it worth their while to focus on other strategies. Other engagements.

Such as Shun Keel.

Who found it worth his while to be fast asleep in a tree on the far edge of campus.

Classes, to him, were benign. **Superficial.** A place to go until graduation day came. A breeding ground for imbeciles to fall over one another in an attempt to answer a simple question.

Yes, _agreed_.

Before he ever laid foot in one, he knew, quite sure, classes were a waste of _time_. One didn't need good grades to achieve a certain rank. All they needed was prowess. **Skill.** _Acumen_.

_Would_ his grades haunt him _later_? He couldn't be bothered to ponder such rubbish. All he knew was he liked to live in the _now_, and forever there would he remain.

Sadly, what was happening _now _was an awful lot of ruckus coming from the Academy's single stone gate.

Lazily, his red eye cracked open. Scanning, slowly, he found the source. Several idiots bound together, a row of circus elephants. Surrounding a young girl, her shouting profanities- something about a book, or a crotch, or some such silly nonsense.

He _**groaned.**_

There would be no sleep for him while this ruckus continued. That was certain. And that little girl had no chance of ending said ruckus on her own. Not with how fat, ugly and stupid those boys taunting her were.

Idiots. The lot of them. Her included. Dumbshite. Couldn't she just grow a bit and not get picked on?

Oh well, enough of it. Shun wiped the sleep, fresh, from his eyes, pointed both feet downward, leapt from the tree.

And off he went.

* * *

Evil Moose made her way to the entrance ceremony with a lack of enthusiasm and a lot of aggravation. It weighed on her shoulders. Made her grimace.

And sigh.

'_Fantastic.'_

Not a day into student life and people were already glaring daggers. At **her**.

As **usual**.

Whenever she endured a new embarkation- whenever new people met her- heard her name, her reputation, rumors flared- it's just how it was. How it had always been.

Simply put, it wasn't _fair_.

Why was everyone against her, before even being introduced? She was a nice girl, a pretty girl- long hair, wide eyes, the smile of one who didn't quite realize the effect it had on the opposite sex. Gave her old clothes to needy children. Volunteered at the soup kitchen in the 76th district. She was fun loving. Friendly.

Considerate. 

Still, it was for this one stupid reason she collected enemies the same way some children collect bottle caps, or bangles. One stupid reason would leave her friendless, and weighed down.

One.

Stupid.

Reason.

A girl across the hall caught her eye; sensing the attention, she smiled. The one next to her whispered _something_. The girl **frowned**, and walked away. Nose in the air. Convinced. Like the rest of them.

The youngest of the Moose clan slapped her forehead and silently cursed her parents.

For the umpteenth time that day.

'Who … tell me, please? Who actually names their kid EVIL!?'

* * *

"OWW-! OWWIE-! OWWIE-! OWW-! FREAKING! SON OF A------OWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!"

The affair was quick, herself landed in the predicament before she knew what happened.

Yoshina'd woken in the swamp- strained, _tired_, and sore- to find a young man hovering over her. His eyes, discreet- a sacred secret- hid behind a messy black scruff. _**Invisible.**_

She didn't like it when she couldn't see a man's eyes.

"GAHHHD! GERROFF ME YOU BASTARD PERVERT!"

Thus, she did what any logical young woman would do to the person who'd just saved her from being eaten by a ravenous hollow.

Grabbed her rusted, splintered dagger.

And aimed for _**his**_ throat.

"Not until you say you're sorry." he growled, infuriated. Digging his knee deeper into her ribs. The young man had countered her attack easily, tossing her onto her stomach and locking her arms behind her back in a swift, fluid motion.

But not before she'd managed to gouge his left cheek. _**Bastard.**_

"It isn't nice manners to slash your rescuer in the face, you know."

"You're no… OW!-_Dammit, not the armpit_!- rescuer! You're just a ruddy psychotic forest PERVERT preying on defenseless-OW!- young women-!"

"Oh, you're **defenseless** all right," he said mockingly. "No doubting that."

A tear of blood fell from his face to hers.

"FUCK YOU!"

He released her arm, dragged her upright by the scruff of her robe. Not kind while doing so, _**abrupt.**_ Staring, sternly, enraged, gripping her collar effectively, he whispered, "Tsk, tsk. Mind your language, please, _Hime._"

The last word was extremely **potent.**

It narrowed her eyes into slits.

"What…did you just call me…?"

He parried her query with _silence._

"Yo, Bro!" called a second pervert, steps away. "You done playing around with the mud baby? We gotta go!"

Her "rescuer" released her collar. Haughtily smelled the air as if he owned it. Brushed the swamp from his robes. Royal blue.

"You're a bastard!" she cried, pushing his chest. He didn't budge. She glared. Defiant. Embarrassed.

Powerless.

"You should hurry. Wouldn't want to be late for your first day…." He smiled. "_Hime."_

He bowed, mockingly. Stronger. Faster. _**Better**_. Eyes full of scorn. She froze, chilled.

The men vanished.

Absently, Yoshina wiped the blood from her cheek, a bruise on her ribs freshly forming. _Bastard._ Exactly why she hated men. Did nothing but make women feel inferior. And **powerless**.

Perverts, all of them!

"Y-yoshi-san…are y-you all right?"

The girl was before her. The crying girl from earlier. With the sword. The curious, singing sword.

Damn, that's right.

She'd been on her way to the Academy when the girl…

"Bii… you said your name's Bii, yeah?"

"Y-yes." She was timid. Frightened. But… pure. Compassionate. **Honest.** It was encrypted in her eyes. _Like an ancient riddle waiting centuries for someone to unlock it_. "Are you…o-okay? Did that boy hurt you?"

Yoshina bit her lip. So sweet. This girl. Bet she didn't even know it.

"No time for check-ups, dear. Judging by the position of the sun we're running late for the entrance ceremony."

Bii's eyes grew wide. Dark saucers. Reflecting powerful lament.

"Oh no-! M-my first day!"

Yoshina spit, her lip swollen and bleeding. Wiped her mouth. Scanned the girl.

_Analyzed her_, the way she analyzed everything: Not as a person, but an object.

"I don't suppose you know how to shunpo yet, love?" she asked.

"N-no…"

"Me neither. Right then."

"…'Right then' what?"

"We run!"

Yoshina grabbed the girl's wrist and, aimed at the Academy, **ran**.

"Y-y-y-y-y-shi-san………W-w-w-w-w-aaaaaaaaaiiiiit!"

* * *

One.

Two.

_Three._

**Four.**

The bullying upperclassmen were each hit in the face. _Hard_. They reeled back, in pain, in surprise.

Before Saint Sky stood a tired, agitated young man.

"Feh."

What just happened?

He looked about him, annoyed. She watched him, stunned.

Had this irritated boy actually just… saved her?

"Hey, Midget." he said.

She blinked.

"What…did you just…call…"

"Don't ya midgets know not to pick fights? Small legs aren't good for running from predators, ya know."

"WHAT!? You son of a--"

"BITCH!"

Saint's response was cut _short_.

The fat one was back up. So was the pimply one. And the extra-stupid looking one, too. And they were _**mad.**_ The leader rose last. His nose dressed in blood. They circled the two, _furious_.

"Needed to phone in the reserves, ickle Miss?"

"Couldn't handle this on your own, could you?"

"Had to call on your bodyguard eh, little girl?"

"What's amatta, boy? Upset we pestered your little girlfriend here?"

Saint growled; so did the irritated young man. Both pointed--

…At _**each other**_.

"--You think I'd rely on a selfish dick like him!?"

"--Ya think I'd date a sexless midget like this!?"

A battle of insults ensued.

The upperclassmen watched. Curious. Confused. _Bewildered?_ Weren't _**they**_the ones doing the bullying? Why were these two now bullying each other?

"…your mother!"

"Don't you talk about my mother like that!"

"I'll talk about her anyway I want, midget!"

"Grrr…don't you call me midget you, you…masochist!"

"This is ridiculous!" shouted the leader. "Just hit 'em while they're busy yelling at each other!" He raised a fist, aimed it at the white haired boy's head, and launched himself at him. The others followed suit.

* * *

'All right now, let's see… one zero four, one zero five… ah, here we are!' Wicked Sistah approached the door to her new dorm.

No, _her new home_.

For the next six _**years.**_

The place she would return to every night.

'One zero six! Finally. I wonder what my roommates will be like…'

She fought with worry and excitement.

Mainly, worry.

Would she like her new roommates? More important, would they like _**her**_?

Wicked grimaced.

She only had one shot at making a good first impression on whomever waited beyond that door. The _thought_ cemented her feet to the ground, her hand to the brass knob it held, shaking.

Ten minutes spent staring at the door to her new _home. _Finally, courage found its way to her fingertips. She turned the knob…

"What the flying fudgicle?"

…To find an extremely odd and slightly disturbing scene.

There was an attractive, fashionable girl standing in the center of the room.

"Oh, are you Wicky-chan?" she asked excitedly.

But that wasn't the odd, disturbing part.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Iana Sabelle!"

The odd, disturbing part was the six overstuffed shoe cupboards filling the space where a bed should have been.

"What…in…the…" Wicked tore her eyes away from the mass of footwear. "Are… you my new roommate?"

"Oh, right. No, I'm not, actually. Down the hall, two doors."

"Then what are you doing in here with all these shoes?"

Iana chuckled, nervous, and pet her hair. Long, black, and _shimmering_.

"Oh well… a, ha, ha, you see… my room wont fit them, and my roommate, Evil-chan… well, a, ha, ha, she already told me I need to find another place for them if I want to keep them, you know."

The fashionista pointed her index fingers together nervously.

Wicked grimaced.

"…'Evil…chan'…?"

"Yes, she's quite nice when she isn't complaining about her parents' stupid- stupidity or something! So, anyway, I went to the registry and they said that this room had one empty bunk in it due to a drop out."

"Oh… kay…?"

"So I just paid them the tuition fee twice so I could use the extra space to house all of my shoes! Ha, ha! Wasn't that brilliant of me!?"

A sleek, red shoe fell from the top of the third cupboard, breaking the silence between them. Iana's long eyelashes batted. Up and down. Up and down.

Wicked grimaced.

"Uhm…err…"

So much for worrying about impressing 'what' was on the other side of that door.

'It' was too busy being impressed by a wall of shoes.

"Oh, my precious Jimmy Choos! Come to mama!"

"Err…"

Outside, the gong rang. Students scurried towards the great hall. Iana, immersed in an ebony flow of sandals and flats, gasped.

"Oh my, Wicky-chan! The entrance exam is starting soon, so I better be on my way now or Crazy-chan won't save my seat."

Wicked grimaced.

"…'Crazy…chan'…?"

"Well then, see you!"

She handed the shorter of the two a bright pink pump, and left.

"Errr….right…" the shorter girl responded. The pump _shimmered_. Wicked grimaced. "See you…?"

* * *

Saint's eyes were the first to catch on them; all three diving in without warning. At the look in her eyes Shun Keel stopped his verbal assault and spun around. They were coming at him, the upperclassmen, quick.

Too quick.

Could he block them in time? Only one way to tell. Raising his arms, he moved swiftly in front of the midget girl and braced for impact.

But felt no assault.

Wait… What?

"Damn you, stupid idiots! Don't you have anything better to do than pick on _smaller _stupididiots!?"

Shun removed his arms from his face.

"S-sorry, Sempai!" shouted the four in unison. They bowed. And ran.

In their wake stood a young man. He was arrogant, visibly cocky. With blonde hair. Spiky, and sharp.

And his clothing.

Odd? He wore…

Blue robes.

Royal blue.

Was he a student?

"Damn freshman." he growled, waving his sword about like a toy baton. "Can't you lot just stay on your side of the courtyard!?"

Shun moved forward, _enraged_. "Nobody asked for your help, ya know!"

"Oh yeah?" replied arrogance, eyebrow cocked. "What, 'Cuz you were just gonna beat all those guys on your own?"

That settled things. Shun _really_ didn't like this idiot.

"Try me!"

"Don't mind if I—"

"CLOUD!"

The blonde halted his fist, already aimed, and froze; his arrogance melted swiftly at the voice calling his name.

"R…rebecca?"

A girl with long, dark hair approached. Her aura was mysterious, and strikingly calm.

And, calm-_**ing**_

"Honestly, Cloud. Picking fights with freshman?"

The blonde shed his ego under her unmoved stare. He grew flustered, unsure, childish.

"Wait…y-you don't understand! I was defending him!"

"Sure you were." Without blinking, the mysterious girl walked away.

Leaving the devastated blonde trailing her like a lost puppy.

"R-rebecca, wait!"

"Cloud, you're a pain in my ass."

"Re….be….KAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Saint watched the two fade into the background and turned to Shun.

"Who in the world were they?"

"No clue…" he replied absently. Then, to her concern, began staring at her. "So, kid…I gotta know…"

"Know what?" she replied curiously.

"What the hell is up with your **proportions**, anyway?"

The twelve-hundred-page book- the one she liked best- fell to the ground, forgotten. Mud splattered.

"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN, PROPORTIONS!?"

Shun waved his hand. "Nevermind, I never said anything. Hey, is that your book ya dropped? Heh, it's bigger than you are, heh, heh."

"You're a real jerk, you know that…?" she asked. He nodded. Saint retrieved her tome. Dusted the dirt off of it. Never in one day had she been insulted and rescued so much by the_ same_ person. "What's your name, anyway?"

"Shun. What's yours, kid?"

"Saint."

"What?"

"I said, SAINT!"

"You're no Saint."

She pointed at him. "Don't make fun of my name!"

"I wasn't." He pointed back. "_**You**_ stop making assumptions, you damn kid!"

"I said my name is Saint!"

"Chibi." Shun folded his arms.

"WHAT!?"

"If 'Kid' won't do, I'll call ya Chibi."

"Fine, then! I'll call you _shun-shun_! Like a sound effect!"

The gong chimed, encompassing them. Shun huffed, exasperated. So much for the morning nap.

"Do whatever ya want." He waved a hand behind him, and wandered away.

"Whatever I want, huh?" Saint seethed. The book in her hands felt a little lighter as she made for the great hall.

"You'll learn to regret saying that, _Onii-chama_…"

* * *

Iana Sabelle.

Princess of Wandering Island.

New student at Seireitei Academy.

Fresh start.

Shedding this life for that.

Her new 'skin' certainly was turning out to be cozy, in fact.

She sat sandwiched between her oldest friend-- Crazy OnDisplay, who was fun to be around and smart in all the right places (fashion, accessory, BOYS…) and her newest, Snowlion No Miko, who was equally fun to be around and, as a bonus, good at scheming in all the right places (love life, social life, BOYS…)-- and smiled eagerly. The entrance ceremony commenced.

**Everything** was going great.

She'd made new friends. Re-acquainted with old ones. Found a spot to stow her shoes. Had a very, _very_ cute boy in blue robes escort her to the entrance ceremony (was he a student?), and now this.

Hitsugaya Toshiro.

Easily, the handsomest Captain to ever take the title, had, in his own words, "drawn the short straw and was thus sentenced to the threadbare task of giving the **(**_**blankety-blank)**_-ing opening speech to a squall of know-nothing, lackluster incompetents. What insufferable luck".

.

.

.

.

.

SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

Iana's to do list was almost complete.

One thing remained:

Find the mystery princess.

**Subquest:** beseech her for knowledge on topics essential in life (fashion, accessory, love life, social life, BOYS…).

But where could she be?

Iana surveyed the great hall. It teemed with students. Some of them nervous. Others bored. A few caught somewhere messily in between. One trait stood out among all of them, however.

_They all slouched._

It was easy to surmise that the princess was not in attendance. Was she running late? Was she kidnapped?

It was certainly a possibility…

Iana'd suffered her fair share of kidnappings. She even remembered this one time when that stranger in the van had offered her some candy. It seemed like a good idea at the moment, but then the ransom had cost her six allowances to pay back—

"Psst! Iana-chan!" Her thoughts of pirates and goons were cut short.

Crazy gently slapped her thigh and motioned for her to _pay attention_.

But Crazy's request came at the wrong moment. After she cautioned her friend, a loud wailing came from the hallway. Hitsugaya Toshiro yielded his speech. All eyes carried from him, to the rice paper wall.

Pressured to perform, it swiftly shattered, spitting two mud-caked girls at the ice-Captain's feet.

He slapped his forehead.

And sighed.

"Oh no--!" cried a dirty, short haired girl. "D-did we make it on time?"

The second girl could not respond; Toshiro'd replied for her, _**"What do you think--!?"**_

Mika watched her cringe; watched Hitsugaya's neck twinge; watched the rest of the room remain abstinently silent.

"Don't yell at her! It's my fault we're late." said the second. Hitsugaya's attention was re-directed. So was Iana's. This girl was covered in swamp. In filth. And a musky stench that steamed over the room.

But, oddly, she wasn't slouching…

"Well, well," said Hitsugaya. He knew this girl, Iana guessed. His voice proved it.

"Joining us in nothing less than perfect style I see, _Princess_ Yoshina."

Iana froze.

This didn't fit at all.

That's not what a princess was supposed to look like…

Hitsugaya folded his arms. Stiffened his shoulders. "It would behoove you, Princess, to arrive on time, and sanitary-- like the rest of the students were kind enough to do."

Whew.

That's not what a princess was supposed to _**smell **_like.

"Yeah?" the filthy, unslouching girl countered, furious. "Well it'd behoove YOU to stop being such a damn prick!"

Well.

That certainly wasn't what princesses were supposed to _**SOUND**_ like.

A bit of sludge fell from Yoshina Topasu's dirty, mud-soaked hair. It hit her square in the left eye.

That settled things; Iana had to **rethink** her strategy for boys and clothes…quickly.

Meanwhile, Narquotic was unanimous. She'd just found that 'friend' she was looking for.

With a bullet.

"GA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA, HA! That's freaking hysterical!" she cried.

Literally.

Tears flooded her face.

"Shit, man! You just busted up his whole damn spot! A, HA, HA, HA, HA!"

Many people did and thought many things then.

Hitsugaya Toshiro stood, unmoved.

Bii Kuro-Obi feared how she'd ever find her way back home after getting expelled.

Yoshina Topasu stunk.

A lot.

Iana Sabelle hoped the 'swamp twins' would be staying in a separate dorm. Make that a separate **building**.

Saint Sky questioned how someone caked in mud could still look so dignified.

Narquotic laughed.

And cried.

Snowlion No Miko wondered if this was all a bad dream.

Shun Keel went back to sleep.

And Crazy OnDisplay **decided** that Hitsugaya-sama probably looked so irritated because he needed to get laid.

Like, soon.

Apparently, she not only decided that, but **said** it.

_Out loud._

Hitsugaya, already enraged, assumed the comment came from either of the two he dubbed _Princess Stinky Pants_ or _Red-Headed-She-Demon _and chose to take action.

But, he was a man of poise. Of dignity. Promptly, he composed himself. In his calmest tone, he politely asked the two to excuse themselves for the remainder of the ceremony.

"THAT'S IT! YOU…YOU …STINK PANTS…SHE DEMON… GET THE FUCK OUT!"

* * *

The day ended.

Frustrating and fruitless.

Spent silent.

Spent furious.

Spent watching Seven men make decisions for forty-six.

Life on the inside wasn't all it was cracked up to be.

Luckily, Kaisei had something to look forward to when the day was done. It kept him from lashing out at the 46's meeting. Kept him from quitting. From landing himself in prison.

Or worse.

This 'something' greeted him eagerly as he entered the four-room cell in the housing district deep within the 46's protected dome. The tiny little cave they called home.

"Pop! You're finally home!"

"Hi Rain," Kaisei replied, hanging his overcoat. "How was your day?"

"Pretty good, Pop." the young man responded, beaming. "I met a nice girl. Her name's Snow. She doesn't talk much, but she seems pretty cool."

Kaisei took a moment to survey his child; he was growing quickly. Just yesterday, in diapers. And now this. Already, several decades old. But, unkempt black hair created a boyish air.

It's how Kaisei would have liked to keep him forever.

"That's great, boy. I'm glad you could make a friend even though you're stuck in here."

Kaisei sat at the oval table in the kitchen; Rain quickly poured him a cup of tea.

"How was your first meeting of Central 46, Pop?"

"It was… interesting, to say the least. We talked about the new candidates."

"Really?"

"Yeah." Kaisei sipped. "Apparently there are some pretty interesting cases this year."

"Oh? Like what, Pop?"

"Well, this one girl already has her Shikai. Can you imagine? 103 and has a Shikai."

"Wow, pretty impressive."

He nodded. "Yeah, she wont show anyone, though. Says it's 'far too beautiful for our homely, peasant eyes'. She's a real pill."

"Sounds it." Rain replied. He absently scratched at his ribs. "What else, Pop?"

Kaisei leaned back. Felt the comfort of the wool floor cushion. Embraced it. Appreciated his son's fondness for him.

"Well, there's this one girl… man, she's smart. Scored off the charts." He sipped at his tea. "Funny thing is… she doesn't have a zanpakuto."

Rain stared, quizzical. "But, Pop… Don't you sort of _need_ a zanpakuto to be a Shinigami?"

"Well, yeah, but…" Kaisei sighed. Sometimes, it was easier to skip details. Sometimes it kept children _children_. "Some sort of family politics. So, they let her in anyway."

"Oh, that's weird."

He nodded, smiling at his son. Then paused. "I…"

"Pop?"

"I got to see Kuchiki Byakuya's son today."

"Kuchiki-Taichou has a son?"

"Yeah. He kept it hidden for a very long time, didn't want his enemies using him as leverage. You know how screwed up those noble families can get."

"Yeah, I guess so…"

"Had him living with another family entirely for a while, but that blew up. Now he's at the Academy. They started him in classes a few years ago under a different surname, but it leaked out somehow. Really strong kid, _just like_ his father. Very nice boy, though. Extremely kind and courteous. Doesn't seem to have a heartless bone in his body. _Unlike_ his father."

"Wow, he sounds awesome."

"You'll meet him someday, don't worry."

Rain shuffled. Bit his lip. Kaisei saw the question **form** on his son's lips before he even _asked_.

"About that, Pop… will you keep your promise? Can I take the entrance exam this year?"

"We'll see son. I'm not sure you're ready for the entrance exam yet."

"But, Pop!"

Kaisei's eyes dropped to his _tea_. After what he'd seen today, he didn't want his boy anywhere _near_ Shinigami Academy for a long, long **time.**

"Hold your horses, kiddo. You'll get there, don't worry."

"Pop…another thing…"

"Yes, boy?"

"They itch, Pop. They're really itchy."

Again, Kaisei surveyed his son. The medical tape was waning, causing the many gauze pads covering the young man to pull away from his skin, exposing black splotches.

He'd have to re-bandage him tonight. The 'sealing' process was certainly a messy one.

But it was worth it, end the end. Kaisei ruffled his son's hair, smiled at him apologetically.

"They're going to itch for a while, boy. Just give it time."

* * *

"Hey, Taichou! Wait for meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!"

The problem with Japanese public bathing was just **that**.

It was _public_.

Thus, when Yoshina Topasu entered the bath-house, after six hours of standing in the hall holding two water buckets as punishment, the audacious red-head from this morning followed without qualm.

This wouldn't have bothered most- modesty being what it was amongst Japanese women when bathing- but the golden-eyed girl, simply put, was not a 'people person'.

Certainly, if someone was in trouble she'd **help** without forethought, it was in her nature and upbringing to _do so_. But that didn't mean she wanted, or solicited, 'friends'.

_Friend._

What an artificial word.

The red-head, however, had been following her curiously since their grand exit at the entrance ceremony. Yoshina relaxed, ignoring her, and stared at her reflection. The dried blood on her cheek remained.

A reminder of that, that… _boy. _

'Idiot. I'll find out who he is and he'll damn well get his cummupance for embarrassing me!'

Splashing at her face, she removed the blood to find a fresh cut underneath. That struck her: it wasn't **his** blood she'd wiped from her face. It was _her own_.

Odd… she didn't remember getting cut…

"Sooooo….Taichoooooooooo!" The red-head interrupted her thoughts, tossing a towel from her lazy perch at the pool's edge. The bottoms of her hakama fell into the water, _staining_. She didn't notice. "What're we doing tonight!? Let's go on a man hunt!"

"Huh?" Yoshina caught the towel. She wrapped it around her body and made for the changing room. "Why on earth are you calling me 'Taichou'?"

"You serious? You see that scene you pulled back there? It'd bestove you to stop being such a prick!"

"Behoove…"

"Whatever! It was classic! Somebody like you got way too much style to not be a Taichou someday! I bet you got like some super bad ass zanpakuto or something!? That it tested at one of the strongest levels, right?"

Yoshina appeared from the dressing station. Eyes cast downward, her face was redder than her uniform. "Err… not exactly…"

"So what, it's only like… baddass, instead of super bad ass, then? Wow, real under achiever! Here…let me play on the world's smallest violin for you!"

"Look, err…"

"Narquotic!"

"Listen…Narquotic… Just call me Yoshi, won't you? I highly doubt it'll ever be proper for you to call me a Taichou."

She walked away as she spoke. Narquotic stood up, and followed.

"Bull-crap! You're gonna be MY Taichou someday. You just wait! Oh, and the fun we're gonna have together…ho, ho, ho- it's gonna be rip riot! First we'll start by pranking the boys with---"

The two walked towards their respective dorms, their shadows willowy, in crimson sunset. Narquotic continued her animated speech; Yoshina smiled meekly. She'd had a mischievous side too, before the war.

Perhaps this 'Narquotic' wasn't so bad.

"---and then we'll set it on fire and…!!"

Or…

Perhaps it was time to start preparing alibis.

.

.

.

.

Just in case.


End file.
